Category Archives: Week 9: Defining “The Wilderness” and “The Environment”

The wilderness in the wild

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In Williams Cronon ” defining “the wilderness” and ” the environment” The question of how the wilderness is defined by human civilization and the environment being used as a place for the wealthy to have more properties and ownership. Labeling can be one definition for defines the wilderness even though we humans are considered mammals yet we isolated ourselves from the animals in wild and not interconnected as we think. Like if we name monuments after people

In one part of the passage is that “If the core problem of the wilderness is that it distances us too much from the very things it teaches us to value, then the question we must ask is what it can tell us about home, the place where we actually live” (Cronon, 23). What we call home is just one way of knowing our definition and it usually in a city building, a house on the suburbs or even just a farmhouse hundreds and thousands of miles away from Human civilization. The meaning of this is that there is no such thing as a single definition of what to call a home no matter how much time passes and changes certain things will always stay the same. Another point is that in “Indeed, my principal objection to wilderness is that it may teach us to be dismissive or even contemptuous of such humble places and experiences” (Cronon, 22). Being apart of an environment means that to have humbleness regardless where we end up and having respect for nature. What cronon has taught us is that there is somethings that nature has a place in our hearts no matter if we to destroy or artificially change the naturalness landscape it will always come back somehow.

A Shift in Perspetive: Why did the word “Wilderness” change?

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The Trouble With Wilderness, as a whole, prompts us, as readers, to reconsider our perspective on what we understand to be “wild” or “the wilderness.” What really intrigued me was how the language we have used to describe a place without civilization has changed so dramatically.

“As late as the eighteenth century, the most common usage of the word “wilderness” in the English language referred to landscapes that generally carried adjectives
far different from the ones they attractoday. To be a wilderness then was to be “deserted,” “savage,” “desolate,” “barren”-in short, a “waste,” the word’s nearest synonym. Its connotations were anything but positive, and the emotion one was most
likely to feel in its presence was “bewilderment” or terror.'” (Cronon 8)

Land without human touch was once seen as no more than land waiting to be demarcated and domesticated. This was the case even when that “barren” or “savage” land was populated by its native peoples. If in the eighteenth century, we were so uninterested in going to these supposedly terrifying and pointless places, why are we continually more interested in going to them and away from our modern world? If in the past they felt more comfortable in towns or villages, and if they believed the land was just waiting to be built upon, then what happened? Perhaps we aren’t a very communal species anymore. The bustling towns and communities we made could have made us claustrophobic. Maybe we had to change the wording around “wildereness” to have a justifiable escape. Now, instead of feeling “terror” in the woods, we feel it at our office desks, drinking $7 coffees and reading spine-chilling news headlines. Nature and wilderness are now seen as tranquil and solitary, and FREE. Although my dad always used to say “nothing’s free”, he may have a point. I personally have been given the means and privilege to travel to places I really do consider “wild,” but sometimes just getting to the “wild” is expensive.

Under the Wilderness Act of 1964, “true wilderness” is defined as an area “where the earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain.” Although we have changed our vocabulary around the “great”, “vast”, and “beautiful”, wilderness. We still know one thing to be certain, and it is that we cannot remain. The very thing about nature is that it is without us. We have built that construct, and we cannot escape it. We have, in many ways, evolved. We can no longer survive in what is true wilderness. Many men have attempted it for sure, my favorite is Christopher McCandless, whose story I read in Into the Wild, he truly did it right, seeking out the original “deserted, savage, (and) desolate” wilderness.

Week 9: The Wilderness v The Wildness

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In “The trouble with Wilderness, or Getting Back to the Wrong Nature” by William Cronon is a deep investigation into our relationship with nature and the way we regard it as either wilderness, or wildness. On the one hand, regarding nature as a wilderness removes humanity from the equation, and isolates us from the natural world, one in which we are disconnected from and which only extravagant wealth can be equipped to reconnect with. Picture: nature retreats on islands of paradise, or even the amount of money and preparation required to hike Mt. Everest. For some, even a visit to a local park is out of bounds. Nature is thus relegated to a past time for the wealthy, and a source to be reaped of it’s natural resources

One part that summed it all up to me in Cronon’s exposition was that this recomposed view on wilderness versus wildness, “means looking at the part of nature we intend to turn toward our own ends and asking whether we can use it again and again and again-sustainably-without its being diminished in the process. It means never imagining that we can flee into a mythical wilderness to escape history and the obligation to take responsibility for our own actions that history inescapably entails (p.25)” The lack of connection makes it even easier to use nature as a thing, rather than a body that we influence and are influenced from. However, considering nature as a wildness connects it with our everyday life and surroundings, as a wildness can be recognized even in the explosion of weeds in our front yard. In this way nature is present, nature shows us it’s refusal to yield, and that it has autonomy. This, Cronon reminds us, is important in rebuilding our relationship with nature: respecting it’s autonomy.

Becoming Familiar With The Unfamiliar

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Throughout this class, I have discussed the idea that humans need to live in rhythm with the environment, to build a harmonious relationship where we can become a team helping each other thrive. In “The Trouble with Wilderness or Getting Back to Wrong Nature,” William Cronon suggests,  “the tree in the garden is in reality no less other, no less worthy of our wonder and respect,” meaning that nature in every form is a part of our lives and is deserving of our attention (Cronon, 24). Cronon communicates how the environment is our living reality that we must acknowledge, no matter how big or small, which in turn helps our relationship with our environment get back into rhythm. 

William discusses how the tree growing in our backyard could easily be one that has grown in an extravagant forest, but humans grasp onto the sense of ownership over the tree in their backyard because of its location. Though he conceptualizes that the tree in our backyard almost ‘humanizes’ the tree, “teach us to recognize the wildness we did not see in the tree we planted in our own backyard” (24). Since humans have ownership over their planted garden, similar to a pet, there is no ‘otherness’ attached to the plant. The plant being domesticated, in a sense, contributes to how humans struggle to break the boundary of the need to control the environment. Cronon asks humans to view their tree or garden as if they are of one that lives in this grand wilderness, because at the tree’s root is. If humans begin to look at the environment as their home garden, this could break the boundary and build sympathy. He reveals in truth the ‘otherness’ may be more familiar than what humans believe: “otherness in that which is most unfamiliar, we can learn to see it too in that which at first seemed merely ordinary” (Cronon, 24). The ‘otherness’ becomes familiar when we learn to see it as the familiar. In context with the environment, viewing our own home gardens as the extravagant beauty of wilderness, or viewing the wilderness as our own ordinary home garden, we tend and nurture. 

Overall, Cronon’s essay demonstrates that once humans take the step forward of seeing nature as their own reality will be the first action to restoring our rhythm within our relationship with the environment. Humans must make themselves familiar with the unfamiliar to live in harmony with one another. 

Seeing the Mask of Nature

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In The Trouble with Wilderness, William Cronon questions the common idea that wilderness is a pure and untouched place separate from humans. At first, I thought wilderness just meant beautiful nature far away from cities, but Cronon made me realize that this idea is actually created by people. He writes, “Wilderness hides its unnaturalness behind a mask that is all the more beguiling because it seems so natural.” This line really stood out to me because it shows how the image of wilderness is like a performance, it looks real, but it’s made by us.

The word mask made me think a lot. A mask covers something but also shows a chosen image. When Cronon says wilderness wears a mask, I thought that this means that what we see as natural is actually shaped by human imagination. People want to believe there is still a place free from human influence, so we treat wilderness as something sacred. But Cronon reminded me that even the idea of untouched nature comes from culture and history. It’s interesting because it means that the more we try to escape civilization, the more we reveal how much we are part of it.

Cronon’s point also made me reflect on how people treat cities and everyday spaces. He says we can find wildness “in the cracks of a Manhattan sidewalk, even in the cells of our own bodies.” I really like this image because it changes how I think about nature. It’s not only in national parks or forests, it’s also around us all the time. Cronon’s idea feels realistic because it doesn’t ask us to think about pure nature but to live responsibly in the places we already are.

I think that Cronon’s essay isn’t against wilderness, it’s about balance. If we only see nature as something distant and pure, we ignore our duty to take care of the world close to us. His essay made me think that environmental awareness starts not with escaping from human life, but with seeing the wild side of it. From this, I thought that the real task is not to find wilderness somewhere far away, but to notice it and protect it right where we live.

Why Science Alone Can’t Save the Planet

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In Chapter 1 of The Environmental Humanities: A Critical Introduction, Emmett and Nye argue that “scientists excel at identifying and explaining such problems, but they alone cannot solve them. Solutions will require political and cultural expertise as well” (1). This passage makes it clear that the main idea of environmental humanities is that ecological crises are not merely scientific issues but also fundamentally cultural and ethical ones. The authors do a good job of juxtaposing the precision of scientific discovery with the failures of implementation. By using the Shanghai ecological community project, which was never built, because it ignored local farmers and scientists “studying rare birds” (2). The text reads as a confident declaration of what science can do, but then slowly turns into using words of limitation like “cannot solve” or “require”, which mirrors how knowledge without cultural context can result in the collapse of inaction.

By using examples such as “floating islands of plastic” and “garbage produced by human consumption,” Emmett and Nye evoke a vivid imagery of excess and waste for their audience, yet the moral emphasis is not on catastrophe but more so on human responsibility (1). The repetition of “we believe” throughout that same passage functions rhetorically like a creed, positioning the environmental humanities as an ethical community that is grounded in both conviction and collaboration. The authors’ use of language, using phrases like “constructive knowledge,” contrasts sharply with the rhetoric of crisis that often dominates environmental discourse. Their insistence that “humanists must offer constructive knowledge as well as criticism” redefines the role of humanities scholars from detached observers into activists in environmental problem-solving (2).

All in all, the Shanghai example used in Chapter 1 dramatizes the failure of hierarchical solutions for environmental change and highlights the need for interdisciplinarity rooted in local histories and their cultures. The text’s moral arc moves from scientific detachment to ecological empathy, further suggesting that effective environmental action must integrate a narrative, have ethics, and social understanding. In this sense, Emmett and Nye transform environmental thought from a study of nature’s decline into a humanistic question about how cultures choose to live on this planet–an intellectual and moral shift that defines the emergence of the field of environmental humanities itself.

Dangerous Dualities

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Cronon’s “Trouble with Wilderness” begins to tear apart the “man/nature” false dichotomy; Emmet and Nye’s “A critical introduction” sets up a parallel dichotomy; “Science/Humanities”. In order to dismantle the first— the “dangerous dualism that sets human beings outside of nature” (Cronon, 17) we need to break down the second; “the nature/culture dichotomy that was common during much of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries” (Emmet & Nye, 9).

One of my best friends in middle school was a textbook ecofascist; he would admit with little prompting that he believed it would be for the best if the cancer of humanity were wiped from the earth. He would describe how cancer grows in a body. The conclusions were obvious to him. My other best friend (who had actually survived cancer and had no interest in being exterminated) put human rights above all other concerns. He would ask me how I could be worried about sea otters when people were dying of curable diseases. He was really invested in the repeal of prop 8, although we were twelve and obviously not getting married.

 I can not condemn in either for their adolescent zealotry— indeed, I admired (and still do) their philosophical fervor, impressive in people barely past puberty. However, their campaigns put them at fierce odds; one believing wholeheartedly in the necessary demise of humanity, to protect a wounded planet, and the other committed to human rights to the exclusion of environmental concerns.
Their rivalry is a perfect embodiment of these paradoxical polarities. As a twelve year old, I was perplexed; I couldn’t side with either friend against the other. Of course, I believed in the value of humans and human creations, and that human life and liberty was worth preserving— but I also believed in the value of old growth forests, of undiscovered marine life, of polar bears. Was it really possible that these two things existed in opposition to each other? That to save the planet was to doom humanity, and vice versa? 

My friends were not stupid. Their opposition mirrored one that has existed at least as long as this country. It took me years to form the understanding that these two “sides”, the rivalry between the Human and the Nonhuman, was a construct; these opposing ideas were created and pitted against each other by some force, and were not always mutually exclusive.

It took me years after that to realize that neither scientists nor humanitarians could work alone to effect the change either “team” wanted— that “scientists excel at identifying and explaining such problems, but they alone cannot solve them. Solutions will require political and cultural expertise as well,“ (Emmet & Nye, 6).

I hope you can all forgive me a lapse in close reading this week; the texts we’re discussing represent the foundation of my career and life’s work, and I am compelled to speak personally to them, since I cannot begin to unfold their neatly wrapped theses. As a “scientist”, I believe that my study of the humanities is indispensable to the success of my work— because my work is centered around eliminating the veil between the human and natural world.
My first goal is to show people that they are a part of the “natural” world; that ecology is everyones business. I mean– it happens inside of us! I want to show people that highly complex life exists on all scales and in all the spaces we occupy, that it is beautiful and cannot be escaped.
My second goal is to demystify science, and make it less intimidating to the layperson; to take it from an exclusive institution, “Science with a capital S”, to science, a practice/process which anyone can be involved in, and most people are.
My third goal is to always advocate for the value of human life, culture, and civilization; and to show the world that human society is simply another natural, ecological process on this planet. It follows the same rules as bacterial colonies and insect colonies and vast ecological systems. We have much to learn about how our society functions; we can learn that by observing different kinds of life; and, through this power of observation, we may be able to escape the natural selection process that might otherwise eliminate our lineage.

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I regret I didn’t stay close enough to those two friends from middle school to know where they stand now. They were, for the record, very well rounded people— their rivalry was not one between a Scientist and a Sociologist, but between two intelligent people. Together we went down rabbit holes of etymology, immunology, the history of warfare, of music, botany, disability politics, rare diseases. But I want to credit them most of all for being so utterly convicted of what was important in the world that they inspired a philosophical crisis in me which shaped the rest of my life.

The Emergence of the Environmental Humanities

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In The Emergence of the Environmental Humanities Robert Emmett and David Nye introduce environmental humanities as well as advocate for the importance of why we should pay attention to what is happening. Instead of just explaining what environmental humanities is and what kind of research they can present, they address a big problem right in the beginning—which is getting people to listen to what they have to say and figuring out a way to entice people to care about it.

For starters, Emmett and Nye explain that “…scholars and writers are breaking down academic barriers between the humanities and the sciences, even as these separations are being breached in the larger society.”(6) Pointing out the division between science and humanities that is beyond academic, put to the public. This separation has been an ongoing issue and bridge between the two is needed to further push the importance of environmental humanities. Especially if this study is to be taken seriously, not only those representing this should be involved but those who are still learning about it as well.

They continue to explain that the kind of approach is a delicacy in its own way stating, “Major global financial and development agencies now recognize that addressing the public requires value systems and registries of information that are more nuanced than conventional date”(8) While they understand that their data is major, looking at numbers and facts is not the only way that will increase the awareness for environmental humanities. As they mention, “They demand broad thinking, teamwork across the disciplines, and knowledge that is affective, or emotionally potent, in order to be effective or capable of mobilizing social adaptation.”(8) In this last sentence they communicate that being affective goes hand in hand with effectiveness in this situation. In order to achieve the attention they want, touching the emotions of people plays a big role in the adaptation of environmental humanities. Emotions is ultimately what is going to get people interested, especially if they feel connected to the situation because it could be affecting their own life. Which can be a selfish way of thinking, but humans can be quite self centered and not care about what is going on around them unless it is directly affecting them.

Week 9

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In his essay “The Trouble with Wilderness”, William Cronon highlights the irony of the modern idea of wilderness. Something I thought was exciting was his take on how the wilderness is stolen land, something that was taken and demestocated by modern government and cultures. Cronon writes, “Once set aside within the fixed and carefully policed boundaries of the modern bureaucratic state, the wilderness lost its savage image and became safe: a place more of reverie than of revulsion or fear” (Cronon 15).

I thought this was very interesting because of his use of the word “bureaucratic”; sometimes I forget this word exists, and when I remember it, it always hits me like a truck. It shows how the government has turned the wilderness into something more manageable and less wild. The idea that the wilderness has been taken and turned into something to either profit from or control is wild to me. (see what I did there XD ) The irony of this idea is that the wilderness has become something worth putting time into because of the control the world has over it. No control = not worth the time.

Cronon’s saying “carefully policed boundaries” shows the irony of controlling the wild. He argues that we have turned the wild into something controllable, a mirror of our ideals as humans, rather than something of true wildness. By saying that the wilderness “lost its savage image,” it shows just that. The wild is not the wild anymore, but merely a copy of the wild through the eyes of humans rather than nature. This quote highlights Cronon’s idea that to gather true ecological ethics, we must remove the idea of separate human and natural worlds. The wilderness is not supposed to be something that is controlled, but something that we as humans live with and in. Something we inhabit and enter every day, and not just when we feel like it.

Song of the Week: The Shadow of Love by Stomu Yamash’ta (this one is a bit different than the rest, but I still heard it and instantly thought “Mermaidcore”, it’s very peaceful and it gives more “the peace of the ocean” than anything else!)

STEM to STEAM

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In the Emergence of the Environmental Humanities by Robert S. Emmett and David E. the article introduces us to the idea that science may provide us solutions to environmental problems, but it is the humanities that pushes people to practice such solutions. 

When we think of the environment we think of the wilderness, and see nature as a separate entity from ourselves. And when we do imagine our relationship with the environment, it’s usually in the form of research and sciences or as a commodity. We commodify the environment by seeing it as recreation, resorts to visit rather than something to exist with and support. This creates emotional distance, and a lack of initiative for active change in habits even when science provides us with solutions to help aid the environment. The lack of urgency spreads when western culture faithfully practices hyper-independancy. One of the strongest tools to shift culture is through the power of the humanities. By creating art, whether that be through visual media or through writing, a narrative is being formed to persuade an audience to change.  As the reading says, “The crisis cannot be addressed solely by finding technological solutions to particular problems that are delivered “downstream” to a population of passive consumers.” 

Literature is where people learn compassion. Not technology, not science. Literature teaches empathy by immersing the reader in another’s perspectives, allowing them to interact with the environment that sometimes wouldn’t be otherwise accessible to them. It provides new ways of thinking, offering us narratives that include us as ecological citizens, rather than mortals separate from the animal kingdom. Because the environment has become heavily commercialized, with urban sprawl pushing us further away from the natural world, literature acts as a bridge where we can cross both worlds until we realize the bridge is connecting something we are already a part of.